In All Honesty
by Saltwater Romance
Summary: Destruction rose from the smoke of chaos from World War II with Hotaru traveling the world to find answers to questions that she doesn't even know. She touches the lives of many while losing her own memories.
1. Prologue

**In All Honesty  
**By Saltwater Romance

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_When you have nothing left, what do you live for?_

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**Prologue.**

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My mother was one of the most wonderful person on the Earth.

Yes, a lot of children besides me respectively, could cry out the exact same thought as mine, but my mother was different from the others; she was so unique that she stood in solitary among the masses as she had done through the course of her life despite her sweet demeanor.

No, my mother couldn't be found in the textbooks of today, dying as a nobody and without recognition for the lives that she touched and inspired.

She bore only one child to the man that would continue to love faithfully for the rest of her life. Her features were as delicate as a cherry blossom reaching its full bloom on a warm Spring afternoon, simply breath-taking and seemed to pause at the age of twenty-five, not aging a day after, which led to her forced second marriage that left the pride of her heart behind to defend his homeland, and the ashes of her noble beloved in Cuu-Long, the river that watched as the Europeans stole his life in self-fish vanity, as she relocated to the land of the Rising Sun.

She was introduced to a new environment, new language, new customs, new social status, and even worse, a new life. In spite of her disadvantages, she had made the best of her time with God, who blessed her with a daughter (me) to a man whom she hardly ever saw to his polygamous view of marriage.

She loved the salt water that was a reminder of her homeland. She loved the sparkling sea glass that reminded of the early years raising up her first born. She loved the bustle in the morning and the fussing of the children, who weren't even hers. She loved the other wives as her own blood. She loved her second child, regardless of having every right to ashamed of the poor bastard-child, who wasn't a boy. Above all, her greatest reverend belonged to her past lover, who no one dared to compete for his spotlight.

Every night, she would kneel on her bedside and pray to the rosary before she went to bed. Except for that one miss night when she came to visit me instead of her usual routine.

She appeared next to my bedside with a ghost-like quality, hot tears running down her paling cheeks, her hair was let loose for the first time since I had known her, and she kept chanting, 'I'm sorry' over and over again until her blubbering died in her hoarse throat. I was more than clueless and anything less than awake, so she didn't bother to verbally tell me of her agony. I held her hand loosely, in which she tucked a lotus in with a tight-lipped smile and kissed the top of my head with a gentle murmur of the Hail Mary. Instantly, my eyes widened, all of my senses tingling with knowledge filling up the deafening silence. It was then when we knew. We both knew this was the last good-bye.

The memory whizzed past the me like a summer breeze as my fingertips brushed against the what would have been porcelain skin, if only the years had been kinder to her and hadn't cursed her with the wrinkles marring her face. She looked so peaceful in spite of her violent death. Everyone assumed it was homicide, and the second wife had the motive; my mother had a heart of gold, but no one caught the glimpse of the threatening black that aided her in wrecking havoc upon herself.

A cruel twist played on my lips when my father strode into the ceremony, his charisma was strong and attention was focused on him and his best suit that consisted of the embellished three stars on his broad shoulders on the dull green uniform of the Imperial Japanese Army. I was hit with the wave of desire to call his father out for his bloodstained hands.

The priest began to initiate the funeral. His lips moved, but no words came out. The priest as well as everyone else surrounding the casket didn't know my mother. They didn't care about her, and they all knew it. She wasn't one of their people and for that, they condemned her with their harsh judgment.

I was so young and ignorant of ignorance. I was thirteen and had the best person who influenced my life taken away from me. Hello, my name is Hotaru Imai and this is my story. Stay tune if you want to witness a story of love, tragedy, horror, mystery, and a bit supernatural. If not, I understand.

No one is destined to care about me.

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**Author's Sidenote:** This was written for my English class, and I didn't want to publish it until after I received my grade. Though, the one that I wrote for my English class was longer and didn't have Hotaru as the protagonist.

I promise you, that the story will extend to something better as long as you give it a try.

_**Review, s'il vous plait! **_


	2. Chapter One: Regaining Consciousness

**In All Honesty**  
By Saltwater Romance

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_When you have nothing left, what do you live for?_

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**Chapter One: Regaining Consciousness. **

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**Past: **_January 1st, __1941_

I came to be disgusted with the embellished red sun on the green uniform of the Imperial Japanese Army that walked into my house an hour after breakfast and left an hour after the sun was the highest in the blazing sky. He reduced my sisters into useless sighs and giggles, even if he wasn't here for them. I abhorred him for that effect on them. And even more so with his all-knowing smirk and confidence that was verging on the side of conceit.

My eldest sister Mikan was in his particular interest, but it wasn't very obvious to the naked eye as he stuck by Father's study to strategically plan revolts against the Chinese. Every time I saw the door shut behind the two, I knew that the next day the newspaper heading would be of their latest conquest. Had my father no shame? Why was he going against the people of my mother's descent? Never before had I felt ashamed.

My own Goddamn father was against me.

I was ostracized from most of the members in the house, except for a little less than a handful of individuals who had stuck by my side. There was only two mothers who raised me in memory of the tenderness of my own. I felt so small as to being so weak to not be able to rely on myself. I thanked the dazzling lady who set my breakfast in front of me.

She winked at me and went on to serve the rest of my sisters and brothers. Her legitimate niece and step-daughter (her sister's child and her husband's child… Complicated, I know) plopped down right next to me with her cheerful gait, "Good morning, sister Hotaru."

"The same to you, sister Mikan," I politely responded back with a soft smile. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and radiated off her wonderful bliss to everyone who was within twenty kilometers of her. I imagined her feeling important, as she was the oldest daughter of our father. She was also one of the clear favorites by him, but that was besides the point. Today of January 1st, signaled her birth, which would mean that she was of age to wed.

Her hair was like spun gold, rich in colour and almost surreal in your reach. Her eyes were as light as her hair and gleaming with her inner youth. Her softly carved features were delicate and small on her alabaster skin. She was like a gift from God, and everyone in the family knew that she wouldn't have a difficult time finding her husband. The corners of her lips tugged upwards shyly, as she began to clench her fingers on her linen napkin, "I'm so nervous! Please, will you accompany me to meet my suitors?"

"Shouldn't it be just your mother and father who goes?" my eyebrow rose sardonically.

A frown marred her gently carved lips, "Mother received a message that my grandfather, her father, was on the brink of death. She was worried, so she left for a week with father's permission and one of his boys to keep guard on her. So, I suppose that no one else would mind if you went in her place."

I snorted, "I'm younger than you, how would anyone take me seriously if I inputted my opinion?"

"I would take it seriously," she simply replied, closing the conversation with a sip of miso soup.

My elder sister had a way of getting what she wanted without really lowering her dignity or fighting dirty. She simply got her way with her knowledge of placing words correctly and ending the discussion at the right moment. Someone who had overheard our conversation had stuck her head in where she was not wanted, "Dear, you mustn't let a girl with her status come. She would be a bad omen and we don't need of that, do we?"

Mikan's amber eyes churned darkly, but she held her tongue. However, she did match the woman in the level of artificial sweetness and underlying threat, "My mother is already out of the city, miles from our house, so if anything… That's a bad omen itself. And if I do imagine, I have lived here longer… And I have been in my father's favor a bit longer than someone else that I reckon must be his what…? Seventh, fifteenth wife… I cannot recall."

The woman's glare was freezing, but fortunately for me, neither Mikan nor I were fazed. Mikan smiled at the older woman, who had a scowl in place. My older brother, Koko had already warned me about what a witch this woman was. Don't let her looks fool you, she was vicious. Her build was tiny and nothing about her gave off her ill-temper besides the words that leave her mouth.

"Still," the woman persisted in vain, "We mustn't mix with her kind. It's dishonorable."

Enraged, Mikan rose to my defense, but I tugged on her sleeve and shook my head. Everything was usually better left unsaid, and she understood why I hadn't wanted her protection; then everyone would criticize me for not being able to stand up on my own two feet and that I was using Mikan in some form. I made sure that my voice was low, but steady, "It may be that half of my being is part of the enemy's. However, you must remember who else's blood courses through my veins."

Mikan smirked, "And must I remind you who holds the power in this house? You? A mere wife who hasn't bore my father a son yet, or the daughter of his first wife and sister to the man who owns most of the property of Japan?"

The woman scowled at our pair, but decided not to call to Mikan's bluff. The reality was that our father wouldn't have cared either way. He was that type of father to us, even to some of his sons that he hadn't favored. Mikan held out her arm and let out a tinkering laugh, "Ready for my suitors? I'm afraid that I might bore you with the quick session."

I smiled and linked arms with her.

We spent the next hour scrubbing her from head to toe in order to present her. We wrapped her in her best kimono, a deep scarlet and painted her face subtly. Then we headed out to the salon where our father waited rather impatiently. He never bat an eyelash to my appearance, which was the most that he had ever done for me.

She had lied and indefinitely miscalculated the amount of men who were lining up to wed her. Half a dozen were a little older than her. The other half were old men that I was disgusted to see them waiting on Mikan's hand. Above everything, all of these men had power over the government and piqued our father's interest. He almost gave her hand to the second to last man who appeared all because of how the marriage would have benefited him.

That man happened to be the child of one of the King's officers. He was handsome, I suppose, but his leering eye traveling up both Mikan and my bodies were disconcerting. One of the questions he asked was if I would be visiting the home of him and his future beloved (inset well-done gag). Of course, our Father didn't understand his actual intention and almost gave his daughter away to that scum of a man.

If it hadn't been for the very last man to interrupt, purely by accident, Mikan would have been putty in the hands of the villainous creature. He had came with his face a bit red from exertion to reaching our home on time. His hair was neatly groomed for once, and he had worn his best suit. He reached into his pocket almost self-conscious, but Mikan reacted first to his sight, "Natsume! What are you doing here?"

"General," he ducked his head in respect, "Pardon me for my lateness and interruption, but I too, wish to be arranged to marry Sakura, Mikan."

It was as if the world had exploded. Spying sisters were under the spell of envy. The man who was in midst of being arranged to be married to Mikan dashed out of the house with his face a stunning shade of green. Natsume was the most notable people in Japan, and his reputation was not the kindest. In the end, my father looked at the two with grim approval and proclaimed, "September 23rd."

Thus the rest was history, Natsume consumed my sister's essential being as he was always on her mind. And was always by her side on the days our father allowed him to take time off. He stole my only friend. And I hadn't forgiven him since.

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**Present: **_1943_

"She's awake!" a high-pitched voice pierced the atmosphere as a foreigner took hold of my hand and said a pray of relief in the tonic language of Vietnamese. His eyes were a colour that I had a feeling wasn't common where I was. They were azure, a deep blue with flecks of green in the middle. His blonde hair was longer than the other gentlemen in the room, reaching his nape.

All of them wore faded uniforms that I couldn't really distinguish out. All of them wore different colours, which gave me chills. I had an odd feeling that the three of them weren't supposed to mix together. I tried to sit up, but the fatigue I felt made me sink back into my pillow. The flaxen haired man had a wild look in his eyes as the words came out of his mouth in a frenzy, "Hotaru! Hotaru! Are you okay? Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

I stared at his chiseled features blankly, before carefully responding back in a quiet voice, "Doctor…? I think that I'm alright. My head is a bit woozy."

His eyes widened in concern, "Hotaru, do you remember me?"

I had no reply because I knew that the answer would break his heart.

The other two men in the room patted his back in sympathy. I didn't even have the time to question on who they were; the doctor came rushing in, dragged by the nurse who announced my consciousness. Sub-consciously, I rubbed my swollen stomach from the senses of being overwhelmed as the blonde man nodded in response to my unspoken question. My gesture was done in absentmindedness, but it made my eyes widened. Oh God. I was carrying a babe. More specifically, I was carrying a babe to a man whom I don't even remember. And even worse, I couldn't figure out my own name.

"Stay with us, Miss Imai," the doctor began, but he was too late.

Blackness tinged the edge of vision and before I knew it, unconsciousness stole me once again.

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**Past: **_September 2nd 1941_

All I had the knowledge of was my mother's native tongue, which was rusty of disuse in Japan where the dominant language was Japanese, respectively. Besides that, I was basically left with a couple of necklaces that I could sell in exchange for money and two sets of clothes. It wasn't decent for a woman to travel without a male consort, but this was not a usual situation.

I was fed up with how the majority of those in my house had treated me. I was fed up with everyone, and I began to seek for and craved for the love of my brother from my mother's pervious marriage. I hadn't known him at all, despite listening to my mother's tales of his childhood. It didn't matter to me because finding him became an obsession. He was the only piece of my mother that I had left.

And I intended to connect with that only bond.

I discreetly followed the troops underneath the command of my father onto a ship, heading for what I thought to be my mother's native country, Southern China. The soldiers were the only people who would dare to travel there; any other nation was looked down upon by the Japanese, we all knew that we were superior. Besides, a war was going on outside of our fare island, so there were restrictions to traveling if anyone was brave enough to do so.

After two days on sea, I was homesick as well as starving to death. My stomach could no longer suppress the stubborn growling, and my throat was parched from having no water. Sneaking out of the country was harder than I had imagined and my supplies were inadequate. I couldn't eat my clothing and there was no one to sell my jewelry to for money in exchange for food.

The third day that had passed, lady Fortune had smiled down in my favor. My eldest sister's betrothed found me with a sneer to disguise his actual surprise. As stolid as he was from my childhood, he still had respect for me, so he didn't throw me overboard or mistreat me. Actually, the hour he had discovered me, he gave me word of caution. He hid me in his cabin for a reason and that was so that I wouldn't be put into a position of danger and neither would he. There was always a possibility of me getting raped… Who had never heard of drunken sailors and their unbridled ways? Besides that, there was always the major possibility of spies, which was a thought that chilled me to the bones.

He trusted no one on the ship, and he expected me to do the same. He told me that just because someone was your ally today didn't necessarily mean that they would be tomorrow. He was one of the least favorite men in the country of Japan, and for that reason alone made him vulnerable to blackmail.

I was grateful for his generosity. We might have our banters, but at the end of the day, we had each other's back. Or at least, I hoped because he happened to loved to kick mine in his sleep.

"Natsume," I chided with a glare. He looked up at me with his bored crimson eyes as if we had been through this situation for the millionth time. He was mistaken. It was only the second week of us living together in a cramped cabin.

"I don't care," he exclaimed roughly without any guilt towards me; the selfish cheeky jerk!

A low feral growl came from deep within my throat as I snatched the underlying problem from under his nose with triumph, "We've been through this! Not once! Nor twice! But for the past two weeks or so! When will you ever get it through your thick skull that all of the shrimp belong to me?"

"I'm hungry," he complained as he flopped onto the bed in resignation, "And are you the one who has to walk around patrolling the vicinity? No! I am a man, Hotaru. I eat. A lot."

"Too bad," I snapped, "I'm not yet fully grown and you starve me for most of the day. At least amuse me and offer me my favorite food!"

"Ooooh," he stared at me wide-eyed, his lips pressed together firmly as if he was trying to suppress laughter, "I get it. You received your induction to womanhood, did you? Congratulations, Hotaru. Really."

My tempter flared and I threw the chopsticks at him in righteous anger, "Stop it! It's indecent to bring up such personal matters to a lady!"

"It's indecent to bring up such personal matters to a lady," he mimicked, "So you really did get it, didn't you? And if you were such a prudent lady, then why do you sleep on the same mattress with an unwedded man? Why do you growl at others? And most importantly, why do you throw chopsticks at innocents? I think you're the indecent one, Hotaru, not me."

"You are horrid," I spat.

"I know," he propped himself up by his elbow with a wicked grin, "A game of Hanafuda?"

"You are on," I met his challenging stare readily. Playing this game was monotonous since we did it every night before we went to bed, but it was enjoyable. Natsume's façade would always peel off with every cuss when I had the winning hand. Once we tired of the game, we both bide good-night and went to sleep, dreaming of reaching land.

Natsume's face appeared to me when daylight hit the cracks underneath the cabin door. His nose was scrunched up, "You reek, Hotaru."

"Excuse me for not being allowed to go to the bathroom," I peered at him sleepily. Not eating much resulted into over exhaustion and I mostly slept during the day, "I wonder who's fault that is. Besides, you sleep next to me and now you realize my scent? Good job, Natsume, Good job."

He smirked as he clucked his tongue, "Oh there goes that lashing tongue that I love dearly. If I were you, I would put it away after I show you what I have for you."

"What?" I hissed, sitting up immediately, I wouldn't put it over him to plant a rat within the bed just to have me be a source of entertainment.

He looked at me with mock disappointment, "You honestly think that I would put a rat in your bed again? Why on Earth would I do such a thing?"

"Because you did that two nights ago!" I shot back accusingly.

"Well," he continued on, ignoring me as usual, "My men docked in a tiny port near Manchuria, and I retrieved this for your 16th birthday. Don't think that I have forgotten."

He held up a pendant with a wood carved dragon circled into an almost ball. The detail was intricate and incredible. The fact that Natsume was able to do such a kind gesture for me, it was shocking. I breathed out, "Wow."

"The man said that the dragon was lucky and served for protection, so when we get to China, it'll protect you since I have to watch over my troops," he started off with his eyes averted from me. I guess that he felt that his masculinity was stripped from him for doing such an act, but nonetheless, I embraced him, "This is wonderful. Thank you."

"Well," he began mischievously, but I cut him off, "Quiet. It's my day today and even you can't spoil it for me."

He let out a rare laugh, and we continued to hug… Until he shattered the sweet moment of our friendship by telling me to go take a bath. Did you know that the bathroom was an extended part of the cabin? And the door that was to the left of the mattress led to the private bathroom only given to special members on the ship? I didn't. To say that I was embarrassed was an understatement.

That night, we celebrated with a bowl of shrimp that was given to me entirely and a bigger serving of rice that we shared with the sweet tang of an orange as dessert.

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**Present:** _1943_

"Eat this," a gruff voice ordered me. His probing eyes were a startling crimson, that reflected the bloodied sky of dusk. I opened up my mouth unwillingly as he forced a spoon into it. I almost gagged, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me so weak, even if I was helpless in the cot.

As he fed me more food, he blandly initiated a conversation with me, "So I hear that you are now an amnesiac. Good job, Hotaru. I leave you alone for about a year and this is how you fare? You get pregnant with the enemy and get a bump on your head?"

His fingers not go gently touched my head, making me wince as he looked at me with a humorless smile, "I guess you don't remember much…"

"Can you stop?" I struggled to find my voice, "I don't know who I am, how old I am, and who my family is. Don't confuse me with a mute child or an unconscious body that you can confide to. I may have not recollect my past, but I do know that I don't appreciate being spoken to like this."

"I missed you," he let out a strangled laugh, the weight of his words felt wrong to my ears, "When they said that you were an amnesiac, I thought that your personality would change, but evidently not."

"Okay," I replied back.

Despite my complaint to him, he continued on with his words in a desperate manner, as if he would have a break down if he wasn't heard out, "The doctor had warned me not to force memories to you, as you probably wouldn't handle them very well. Unluckily for him, I hold no sympathy for him or his job.

"I don't know how it feels to be in your place, so I'm not going to pretend like I do. I don't know if you even remember the last time that we had spoken to each other. It was almost a year ago that we had parted, and if you can't remember how we left, then I am relieved. Life is too short to live with hatred poisoning your mind and your actions. Ever since Mikan, your sister, had passed during the American bombing over our home city, my life had been awakened. I felt so numb, yet so alive. Her death still pains me, but it was my wake-up call. Damn, Hotaru. Life is shorter than anyone would realize; you don't even know if tomorrow's going to be your last day."

He chuckled mirthlessly, "I'm sorry for everything that happened in the past, so I hope that we can make amendments and start anew."

Dryly, I responded, "How can I forgive when I don't even have a clue on the subject that you are discussing? But I can assure you that we can start anew… How can we not?"

He gave me a look of relief when he heard my retort, he kissed the top of my head, "I really did miss you."

I was curious about how we were in the past, but I didn't know how to ask him. All I did was sip the soup that he fed me and look outside the window, where the sun was sinking below the horizon, setting the sky into fire. I murmured to myself, "The time between dog and wolf."

The man looked at me expectantly, if I was to repeat what I had said. The statement that I made had slipped out of my mouth before I could contain it. I didn't know how I knew it. I didn't know where it came from. But I found comfort in those words, and that alone set me to ease around this man that I couldn't seem to remember.

I turned to him, "Do you know the name of the foreigner?"

"Your husband?" he looked at me incredulously, his face was contorted with the indecision of not knowing to laugh or be somber, "Well, he is a Frenchman who came to work for the king of Vietnam and is still serving until he gets discharged after the war is over. He is the father of your child, who is still safe within your womb. That's all that I'm aware of… Besides that, I know almost nothing about him, Hotaru."

"Oh," disappointment shaded my face.

Natsume seemed to take note as took my hand in his. His touch was warm to my icy skin, "Don't worry. He doesn't blame you for your loss of memory. In fact, I think that he puts the blame more on himself, but nonetheless… All of us are relieved to see that you are alive."

"But not well," I inputted.

"But not well," he echoed in agreement. I had put more favor into him, whoever he was in my life, I was glad to have him. Instead of questioning me, he seemed to understand without much words needed to be conveyed. He fluffed my pillows and bid me farewell. Guilt consumed me before the darkness did. That night, I dreamt of peachy skies and images of the endless sea.

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**Author's Sidenote:** I might not be historically correct because the timeline messes with my head and I had to edit this story about the timeline, so feel free to point out my mistakes (:

17th Century: French's involvement with Vietnam.  
1932: Japan captured Manchuria.  
1937: The Chinese begin to resist against the Japanese.  
1940: Japan controls Indochina.  
1941: The bombing of Pearl Harbor.  
1942: Doolittle's Raid over Japan; Mikan's death.  
1943: The present of which the story takes place.  
1945: Bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki; ending to World War II.

**_Review, s'il vous plait!_**

**_P.S _**_Natsume and Mikan never got married if I haven't specified that. _


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